


Casual+

by Fragile_Porcelain



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Anal Sex, Casual Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-18 17:18:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5936527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fragile_Porcelain/pseuds/Fragile_Porcelain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg knew that the younger man was way out of his league. At this point, they weren’t even playing the same sport. The ginger was tall and elegant. Everything he said and did was performed with grace and eloquence. The suits that he wore were designed perfectly to rest upon his slender shoulders, and each one costed as much a Greg made in a month. Mycroft was gorgeous. Greg is not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Greg sat in his office at his desk in Scotland Yard. The sun had long since set. The others had gone home hours ago. But there he was, behind his desk, filling out paperwork. The words grew blurry and jumbled blow the dull desk lamp, forcing him to look away. He run a hand across his face and through his silver hair.

 

He was tired, but there was no point going home. No one would be there. Not long ago he had a wife, and a house. All he had now was a crappy flat and a bottle of scotch. No, it was better to stay in his office, where he could get something productive done. Worse case worst he could nap on the couch and change into the ‘emergency’ outfit he kept in the closet.

 

He looked at his phone in desperation. There were no messages, or missed calls. He sighed. Greg knew that the younger man was way out of his league. At this point, they weren’t even playing the same sport. The ginger was tall and elegant. Everything he said and did was performed with grace and eloquence. The suits that he wore were designed perfectly to rest upon his slender shoulders, and each one costed as much a Greg made in a month. Mycroft was gorgeous. Greg wasn’t.

 

Greg’s suits were poorly tailored and cheap. It wasn’t uncommon for him to trip over his own feet. His hair was kept short, simple because there wasn’t enough to cut. He had a twinge in his back from sleep wrong and spent most of his days munched over like the old man he was. There was no way Greg could compete with Mycroft.

 

So it was no surprise that Mycroft hadn’t contacted him in almost three weeks. Greg was sure that Mycroft had gotten tired of him. It wasn’t really a stretch. Greg couldn’t fathom a scenario where someone like Mycroft was truly interested in him. Greg was a cop, while Mycroft run the government. There was even a high likelihood that the man was Greg’s boss. The mysterious man that always gave orders, but no one ever saw. Greg was 98% sure that was Mycroft.

 

In truth he would have liked to have some kind of message indicating that IT was over. A text, a call, even an email would have sufficed in letting him now that he wasn’t enough. Instead he waited next to the phone for a call that wouldn’t be coming. Greg sighed again.

 

Leaning back in his chair, he truly debated going home. He could take a hot bath, ease his mind and maybe even relax him enough to sleep. Beside him on the desk his phone rang, and he reached for it just a little too fast. The ping of disappointment strung heavily in his heart as he answered the phone.

 

“Lestrade. Yep. Alright. I’ll be right there.” Greg hung up the phone with a heavy sigh. At least a new case would keep him distracted from his miserable life.


	2. Chapter 2

“Rough night, sir?” Donavon asked when she arrived at the crime scene. 

A woman had been murdered in her car. The vehicle had been dumped in a back alley. Some kids out past curfew had seen it. The officers had followed them to the car, and sent the miscreants home. They were just taping off the area when Greg got there. The dread in their eyes told him they were dealing with another victim of the ‘Vicious Vehicles’. Donavan arrived just as the medical examiner was zipping up the body beg. 

“It was a fine night.” 

“Is that… um... the same tie you were wearing yesterday?” She asked holding back a smirk. 

“Drop it.” Greg warned. He looked around for any camera, hoping against hope that Vicious had been stupid enough to seen on camera. There was no luck.

“So… did you not make it bed…. or did you just not make it home?” Donavan asked. Her interest easily read via the smirk on her face. “It doesn’t matter either way… just wonder if I might know her. Is it someone from the office? Maybe Nancy on Third? She won’t admit it, but she checks you out every time you pass her desk. One time I thought she was gonna…” 

“I said ‘DROP IT’!” Greg yelled sharply. He wasn’t in the mood. Around him everyone froze, surprised at the outburst from the normally collected man. Donavan looked like someone has slapped her in the face. Greg quickly turned, intending to leave the crime scene, only to run right into Sherlock Holmes. Greg let out a heavy sigh. He didn’t want to deal with either Holmes. 

“That was entirely unprofessional Detective Inspector.” 

“Not now Sherlock.” Greg pushed past the tall man. 

“But I have information pertinent to the case.” 

“I don’t care.” Greg didn’t stop. He lifted the crime tape and was gone. 

Back in his office, Greg reviewed the crime scene photos. He looked at the photos from the last three scenes. They looked almost identical. All woman where killed in the driver seat of midsize cars. They were shot from the passenger side, indicating that there was a second person in the vehicles. But that was all they had. The car was wiped clean of prints, even those of the victim. The blood splatter patterns were inconclusive. There was nothing that linked the victims, other than they were woman. 

The first one was a blonde mother, with three kids. The second one was brunette university student. The third was a gray hair elderly woman in her sixties. The newest victim was a ginger waitress in her twenties. Greg couldn’t find a connection. They lived in different areas of the city. They didn’t work together. They all ran in different circles. Greg was stumped. He only grew angrier the longer he stared at the photos. 

There was a rattle at the door, without a knock. Greg was glad that he had locked it. The rattle came again, as someone attempted again to open the door. He let out a heavy sigh. He knew who was calling before the phone rang. He hesitated. He didn’t want to talk. The phone rang again. 

“What?”

“Open the door.” Sherlock ordered. 

“No. Go away.” 

“I can help you.” 

“I don’t need help.” 

“Yes you do. You’re stumped. Now let me in!” Greg said nothing more. Hanging up the phone instead. He could do this on his own. He didn’t need the Holmes boys in his life. Personally or professionally. The phone rang again, and Greg answered it more forcefully then needed. 

“Sherlock. Leave me alone. I don’t need your help. I’ll figure it out on my own. ” Greg said angrily. There was silence on the other end of the line. “Sherlock?” 

“Hello, Gregory.” Greg froze. Mycroft’s voice soft and strong on the other end of the phone. 

“Mycroft... What do you want?”

“I heard that you are having some problems with your case.” 

“Is that what Sherlock told you?” 

“I have other sources besides my brother. All of whom are saying that you’re having a… difficult day.” 

“I’m not letting your brother in on this case, just because you call me and ask me to. Not going to happen.” Frustrated and angry, Greg hung up the phone. To solve his own problems, Greg held down the red button, shutting the phone off completely. He needed to focus, before someone else was killed.


	3. Chapter 3

It was midday, and Greg had gotten nowhere. He had every detail of all the crime scenes memorized. He hadn’t left his office since he stormed from the crime scene. He hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. It had only been a sandwich, and that had been over twenty-four hours ago. But he didn’t want leave his office, in fear of who he might snap at next.

 

There was a rattle at the door. Greg sighed. He should answer it. Thinking about it, he was being immature. He should really apologize to Donavan, and see what Sherlock had on the case. He moved to stand, only to have the door swing open. He went from startled as the door opened, and ended with relief as he saw the tall man in the doorway.

 

Mycroft used his foot to close the door, his hands full with two large white bags. He said nothing to Greg as he unloaded a bag full of food onto the desk. He removed his jacket, laying it across one of the chairs. He seated himself in the other. He began unloading the food. Across the desk Greg looked at him in shocked confusion.

 

“How do you…?”

 

“Don’t ask.” Greg began distributing the food between two plates.

 

“What are you doing here, Mycroft?” Greg watched the man physically flinch.

 

“I have brought you lunch, Gregory.”

 

“No. You have come here to ask me to bring Sherlock onto the serial killer case.”

 

“I was rather hoping we could focus on our meal rather than on my brother.”

 

“Please leave,” Greg ordered quickly. He still stood on the other side of the desk. Mycroft let out a long sigh.

 

“Gregory…”

 

“Mycroft.” The other man flinched again.

 

“Gregory, I feel that a misunderstanding has arisen between us.  I was hoping that we could remedy this situation.”

 

“Situation? Is that what I am to you? Just some situation? Please leave, Mycroft and take your food with you.”

 

“Gregory. Please…”

 

“I don’t want to hear excuses, I want you to leave. I want you to stop calling me. I want your brother to stop bothering me. I want this psychopath to stop kill people. I want…” Greg let out a heavy sigh. “Mycroft…”

 

“Would you stop calling me that!” Mycroft said sharper then he mean it. It was his turn to sigh.

 

“That’s your name.” Greg asked him confused.

 

“Yes. But it’s not what you…” It took a long moment for Greg to understand what the other man meant. He seated himself at the desk with a heavy sigh. “You’re the only one…” Mycroft pushed his food around his plate. Unable to meet Greg’s eye.

 

“Myc, it’s been three weeks. Why didn’t you call me?” Greg finally asked the question that had been nagging at him since the other man walked through the door.

 

Whatever this thing that they had, started out as a casual hookup. Mycroft had come to Greg right after his divorced had finalized. It had been Greg’s first time in the bar. He didn’t exactly know it was a gay bar, but he quickly realized. He was getting up to leave when Mycroft approached him. They had agreed. Casual.

 

It started as a once a month thing. Mycroft would call, and picked Greg up from the office. They would have sex, Mycroft would walk him to the door and Greg would go home. It was Casual. Soon it increased to every two weeks.

 

The first time they snuggled, they were both very hesitant. Mycroft moved toward him, he moved toward Mycroft and they bumped heads. When they finally got settled, Greg thought it was odd. But it quickly became one of his favorite things. Mycroft’s hair was soft against his chest. They would snuggle for a bit, before Greg put his clothes back on and left.

 

They were eight months in before Greg ended up staying the night at Mycroft’s apartment. It had been an accident. He had been tired, but when Mycroft had offered, he couldn’t say no. Mycroft’s head was on his chest, he was running his hand through the soft ginger curls. It was relaxing. Soothing. Before he knew it, he was asleep.

 

In the morning, he woke spooning the taller man. There was a moment of bliss, before a moment of fear. He figured Mycroft would be mad. Greg put on clothes, and left expected Mycroft to never call him again. But two days later, Mycroft’s number appeared on his phone.

 

The meetings moved to weekly and it became common for Greg to stay the night. Snuggling together after sex and watching TV. Greg would fall asleep with his arm around the thinner man. In the morning, they would exchange hand jobs, or on occasion, blowjobs. 

 

The first time Greg called the other man by the shortened version of his name, it was awkward. He had been in the kitchen getting them a piece of cake to share. Greg had brought it when he came over. He knew the other man had a sweet tooth. But he had also established that Mycroft was self-conscious. Greg had learned to put two pieces on one plate, claiming that they were only for himself.

 

Greg had asked Mycroft if he wanted a piece of cake. He already knew the answer, but he had to ask. Without thinking he let the nickname slipped out. There was a long silence, as they contemplated the pet name. After that night, Greg no long used the other man’s full name again. The weekly invites became every couple days.

 

Four weeks ago, Greg had stayed over every night. It happened on a Friday night. Mycroft already had dinner in the car, not wanting to miss a moment with the other man. The car dropped them off at Mycroft’s apartment, and as soon as the door was closed they were on each other. It was all hands, touching and no clothes. Afterwards, they ate their forgotten dinner and watched TV. Mycroft snuggled against his chest.  That’s how they fell asleep.

 

The next morning they had sex. Mycroft rode him, slow and gentle. Face to face, their foreheads touching. They didn’t say anything, just stared into each other’s eyes. That morning was the first time that they kissed. With his cock buried inside the taller man and Mycroft’s tongue down his throat, Greg came harder than he ever had.

 

Greg hadn’t heard from Mycroft since that morning, stealing a kiss as he exited. He couldn’t get the smug grin off his face. But that grin slowly changed as the days turned to weeks. Now, the man was sitting across from him, unable to meet his eye.

 

"Gregory, it’s complicated..."

 

"Liar!" Greg barked in anger.

 

"The parameters of our situation..." 

 

"Parameters? Jesus Christ, Myc, this isn't some diplomatic speech. It's me. Just tell what the hell is going on!" Greg yelled, not caring that his voice could easily head by anyone close to his office. Mycroft said nothing.

 

"FINE! Take your food, and your brother and go. You don't have the BALLS to say what's going on, so just leave. Because I'm done. I'm done waiting around for you to tell me that I wasn't good enough for you. So FUCKING done waiting around for you to figure out that what we had was good.  It's killing me and I'm FUCKING...!"

 

"You want the truth? FINE, GREGORY! I am TERRIFIED! Terrified that I like what we had. Terrified about how much I like your stupid pet name. I am terrified that I can’t sleep without you beside me. So FUCKING TERRIFIED that if I told you, I would lose you." Mycroft spat the words out like he had no control of his lips.

 

Greg had never seen the man lose control in such a manner. Even in the bedroom, Mycroft was always calm and collective. But in that moment his face was red with anger and his hair had gone esque. He had flung himself from his chair, his voice reaching a state of anger Greg didn't know it could. Reading the surprise on Greg's face, Mycroft look several deep breaths. He flattened his hair, straightened his tie and returned himself to his seat. He cleared his throat before speaking again.

 

"The emotions that I feel towards you are ones I've never..." He cleared his throat again. "I have spent that last week’s debating how to proceed with his new information."

 

"Myc, I wasn't your first... was I?" Dread filled Greg. The first time they were together he had only prepared the man with two fingers, and not nearly enough lube. Greg had been motivated, and had little control. It would have been painful for a first timer. Greg felt horrible just thinking that he might have hurt the other man.

 

"Not in the aspect you are referring. I have other partners but none that have transitioned past 'casual'."

 

"Have we... transitioned past casual?" Greg asked with caution.

 

"I believe we have... which is why I didn't know how to proceed with our... encounters." At that moment it clicked for Greg. Mycroft had never been in a relationship before.

 

"Why didn't you just talk to me?"

 

"What would I have said? ‘ _Sorry I have been avoiding you. But I'm a forty year old man that has never been in a relationship and I don't know how to tell you that I’m in love with you_..." Mycroft fell silent, his eyes widening in fear. Greg's heart stopped. For a second he thought that he had imagined it, or heard what he wanted. But when Mycroft grabbed his jacket and bolted for the door, he knew it had truly been said.

 

"MYC!" He hurried around his desk. Getting to the door just as the other man attempted to open it. He pressed himself against the metal, separating the ginger from his exit.

 

"I should have left when I had the opportunity… Should have just kept my mouth shut." Mycroft mumbled. He stepped from the door, his eyes looking anywhere but at Greg. The detective didn't know what to say. No one had ever said it to him since his wife, all those years ago. Greg now know what was in lust more than in love. Thinking about it, he had never felt the way he felt about Mycroft before.

 

"I haven't truly slept in weeks, since that last night I was with you. I can only get in naps, a couple hours." The words spilled out for he would think. Mycroft stopped his pacing, but didn't turn to look at the other man. With a deep breath, Greg took the plunge.

 

"I get stuck in my head. Thinking about all the things that I had done wrong. Stay awake for hours just counting all my flaws, realizing that there was no way you hadn't seen them. At first I thought, maybe, you were just really busy at work. Then maybe something had happened. I picked up my phone to call you so many times. But Sherlock.... he would have told me if something had happened. Then I realized, you were just too good for me.”

 

“Gregory…”

 

“Don’t Myc. Just…. Let me finish. I was fine alone. After the divorce, I could go back to my apartment at night and sleep just fine. But after everything… after you… my apartment is just so empty. My whole world is just… empty. I never thought I was good enough for someone like you, but I hoped…. maybe I could get a chance to spend some time with you. I did and I’m thankful for that. But I don’t know if I can let you go. You’re important to me and I think… I think I might… Love you too.”

 

Greg didn’t hesitate to push from the door and swept Mycroft in his arms. Greg kissed him, soft and slow. He hoped that all the love and affection he felt for the man was evident as he held him. Mycroft hesitated, before melting into Greg’s kiss. Greg was too distracted to hear the knock on the door.

 

“Sir, I wondered…” Donavon stepped into the office. Only getting a step. Greg pulled from MHycroft.

 

"OUT!” Greg ordered. Donavon turned and left without a word. Mycroft and Greg stood together, only inches apart. They waited for the door to close. Neither one of them spoke, even after the door closed. Greg cleared his throat.

 

“Myc, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Greg began. He had basically jumped the other man. Before he could get out another word, Mycroft was on him. This time it was more passionate.

 

“My apartment?” Mycroft asked as they pulled apart. Greg’s heart was pounding, and his breath was labored. He couldn’t speak. He just nodded, pulling Mycroft towards the door.

 

“Donavon!” The woman looked from her desk, shock on her face as she way where the two man’s were connected. But Greg didn’t give her a change to say anything. “Call Sherlock. Figure out what he knows about the vicious case.”

 

“But… What? Wait! Where are you going?” Donavon asked. But there was no rely to her question. Greg was already pulling Mycroft from the yard. The black car was waiting at the curb were Myc had left it. Once the door was closed, Greg couldn’t help himself, he was on the other man. He pushed the man’s jacket from around his shoulders and began unbuttoning his shirt. His hand in the ginger curls the whole time, keeping their lips locked.

 

When the car rolled to a stop, Greg was reluctant to move away. But Mycroft pushed him away, a smile on his face. A promise of what was to come next. With a smiles also on his face, Greg gripped the other man’s hand and pulled him from the car. Mycroft waved the car on, indicating to Greg that Mycroft intended for him to stay the night.

 

The door was barely closed before Greg had Mycroft pinned against it. He nipped at the man’s lips, sucking on his tongue. He kept the other man secure against the door his hips, rubbing their cocks together. Mycroft’s moans only egging him on. He kept Mycroft against the door, even as they pulled apart to breath. They rested their foreheads together, content in each other’s space.

 

“I love you.” Greg said without thinking. It just slipped out, and for a second Greg thought he was mistaken. Mycroft did nothing, he didn’t even seem to be breathing. But after several moments, his hands came up to cup Greg cheek. This time when they kissed it was different. It was slower, passionate. Greg lingered in the feeling, hoping that it would never leave him. When they finally pulled apart, Greg knew what he had to do.

 

“Bedroom.” Taking the man’s hand, he led him to the bedroom. Mycroft didn’t fight in, going willingly. They stood in the middle of Myc’s bedroom, both hesitant. They had had sex many times in the room, but now it felt different. Greg began unbuttoning the taller man’s shirt. Keeping his movement slow, just in case the other man wanted to stop.

 

Greg pushed the jacket and shirt from the man’s shoulders, following his hands down Myc’s slender arms. It was an intimate action that they had never shared, and Greg felt the shiver run through the ginger. Greg couldn’t help but smile. He kissed the man’s chest, moving to his neck.

 

Pulling the other man against him, he took a second to just hold Mycroft in his arms, reminding himself how perfect the other felt against him. For almost a full minute Myc allowed it. Before his hips bucked against Greg’s, causing them both to moan.

 

“Gregory…” Myc’s voice sounded broken as he pleaded. Any other time, Greg would already be buried inside Mycroft. But this time Greg was going to make it different, special. It was no longer about a casual, quick fuck. It was the two of them, being together as lovers. Greg was going to take it slow, show Mycroft with it was like being loved.

 

“I know, Myc. I know.” Greg undid the front of the man’s slacks, choosing to brush against his hard cock just to hear him moan. The slacks easily fell from his slender hips. Greg began stroking him though his pants.

 

“GREGORY!” Mycroft bucked into his hand, surprised at the sudden sensation.

 

“Out of your clothes.” Greg helped the man slip off his shoes and out of his pants. He reminded Greg of a newborn giraffe, as he stumbled around. But he finally got out, standing before Greg in nothing.

 

Mycroft reached for Greg’s shirt, which he was still wearing. The only article of clothing he had lost was his jacket. Gregory brushed the man’s hand away, lightly. He pulled the other man against him, running his hand along the pale skin. He never wanted to let him go. Reluctantly, he pulled from the other man.

 

“On the bed.” Greg ordered lightly. He released the other man. Lightly smacking the man’s backside as he went on his way. Myc jumped in surprise but smiled over his shoulder at Greg. He lay himself on the bed, looking good enough to eat. Greg struggled not to pop his buttons as he undressed. His shoes were barely off before he jumped onto the bed, landing beside the other man.

 

Mycroft’s mouth was on him before he could even catch his breath. The man’s hands were on him, touching all of him. He couldn’t stop the moan as the taller man’s fingers wrapped around his cock. His hips bucked as Myc stocked him agonizingly slow. But Greg grabbed the man’s wrist, forcing him to stop.

 

“To close. So close.” His breath was in spirts. Mycroft pulled away, seeming to understand. He sent to the bedside drawers, pulling out the lube. He passed it to the other man, a sly smile on his face. Greg returned it.

 

With the lube still in his hand, he moved to kneel between the man’s legs. He loomed over the man, moving down to kiss him once more. He moaned into Myc mouth as he gripped around both of their cocks. He bucked his hips into the man’s hand. Mycroft’s moan joining his. Greg moved mouth down Myc’s body. Nipping at his neck, careful not to leave a bruise. He continued down, not stopping until he clapped his mouth around the man’s right nipple.

 

Greg loved the sound that the other man made. He bit harder, just verging on pain. Myc bucking into him, his back arching in the sweetest way. Greg moved his mouth, blowing cool air over the reddened bud. Shivers ran along his body. Mycroft’s hand wound into the man’s silver hair, pulling him closer. Greg smirked before moving to the other side. The hand in his hair loosed, allowing Greg to continue down his body.

 

Greg kissed the man’s stomach, watching the man with a smirk. He licked the tip of the man’s cock, enjoying the salty taste. Mycroft’s eye rolled back into his head, pure bliss taking over. Greg smirked. He loved the watching the man lose control. He pulled from the man, taking a second to coat his fingers with lube. Myc made a pained sound. His hand coming up to search for Greg.

 

“One second. Just one second, love.” Greg pushed aside the bottle, connecting Myc’s hand with his one not covered in lube. He kissed the man’s thigh. This time he took the head of the man’s cock into his mouth. When Myc arched up, Greg slowly slipped a finger into him. Myc was tight, like he always was. Greg moaned around Myc’s cock. Making Myc moan again.

 

Greg moved slowly, taking the man deeper as he sped up. He added another finger, taking Myc in fully. He scissored his fingers, stretching the man as he bobbed his head. He added another finger, and another. Normally he only used three finger to prep the man. But he added the forth, not wanting Myc to feel any discomfort. Adjusting them to find that spot inside the other man. Mycroft arched up and Greg knew he had found the right spot. He rubbed it, over and over.

 

“Gregory… Greg… Please!” Myc cried. He pulled at Greg, where their hands were still connected. Greg understood what the man wanted. He pulled away, kissing Myc’s hip. His fingers still buried deep in the other man. “Greg…” Mycroft’s voice was breathy as he pleaded.

 

“Alright. Alright. I know what you need.” Greg smiled. He moved back up the man’s body, kissing a trail as he went. His teeth grazing over the red buds. Mycroft hissed in a mix of pain and pleasure. He waited until their lips were locked once more. His tongue in the other man’s mouth, allowing him to taste himself.

 

Mycroft moaned when Greg removed his fingers. His breath catching as Greg sank into him. It was a slow slide, Greg taking his time. He loomed over the tall man, wanting to watch his face. Mycroft’s eyes were closed, his back arching into the other man. Greg waited once he was completely sheathed inside the other man.

 

“I love you.” The words slipped from Greg’s mouth without a thought. They were a whisper that seemed to echo in the silence between them. Myc’s eyes opened, looking up at him. He wrapped his arms around the older man’s hips, forcing him deeper. It was Greg’s turn to moan.

 

Greg began to slowly thrust, both moaning as he speed up. Supporting himself on his arms, Greg watched the other man. Greg angled his hips, knowing he had hit the other man’s prostate when Myc tighten around him. Greg smirked. He moved one hand down, to wrap around Myc’s cock. He stroked the man in time with his thrusts. He was close, and he know the other man was also.

 

“Cum for me, Myc.” Greg ordered lightly, he ran his hand thumb over the slit of the man’s cock, while hitting his prostate, and Mycroft was cumming. Greg continued to work him, all the while feeling him tightening around his cock. He waited until Myc’s breath was stabilized before he allowed himself to let go.

 

He thrust three more times before burying himself inside the man. Unable to hold himself up any longer, he slumped against the taller man. Mycroft’s arms wound around him and held him until his breathing stabilized. They stayed together well after both of them had recovered. Greg shifted, pulling Myc to lay cross him. He held the man tightly against him. Even as the cum dried between them, Greg was reluctant to let him go. But he did.

 

“I’ll be right back.” He kissed Myc’s forehead and pushed him away. Myc made a pained sound, but let Greg slid away. Greg worked quickly, making sure that the towel was extra hot. He crawled back on the bed, kissing the half asleep man.

 

He ran the towel along the man’s skin, kissing every inch of the freshly cleaned skin. Myc’s eye were barely open as Greg finished. He whipped himself off, before tossing the towel aside. He lay down once more, Myc plastering himself to his hide. Greg smiled. He ran his hand though the ginger curls. Content in that moment.

 

“I love you.” Myc said after a long moment of silence between them. Greg tipped his chin up, kissing him slowly. Myc snuggled against his chest, and Greg held him close with a hand at his back.

 

“I love you too.” Greg closed his eyes. He quickly found the sleep that had been evading him for weeks.


	4. Chapter 4

The world seemed brighter when Greg woke hours later. For a split second he thought it had all been a dream. But the figure beside him shifted and he know that it wasn’t.

He looked to the sleeping man, and couldn’t help but smile. At some point Myc had rolled over and his face was squished into the pillow. His hair was sticking in every direction. The white pillow case had become transparent by his drool. His breath whistled when he breathed through his nose.

Greg had never loved him more. Although he wanted to stay in that moment forever, his stomach rumbled and he realized what had woken him. He looked to the clock on the nightstand, only to realize that it was almost 6 o’clock pm.

They had slept soundly for several hours, but he hadn’t eaten since the previous day. Mycroft hadn’t eaten either, they hadn’t touched the lunch that the man had brought to his office. He sighted. Their bliss would have to be shattered, at least long enough for them to eat dinner.

Greg moved himself against the other man, pressing Myc’s back against his chest. He kissed between the man’s shoulder blades, up to his neck. Myc hummed as he slowly woke. He pushed himself against the other man. Greg smirked.

Myc was always slow to wake up. Normally, Greg would just shake his shoulders or just leave without waking him. But this time, Greg got to kiss the man awake, something he had been dreaming of since their third night together. He nipped at his neck as he moved up. Myc cringing away as Greg reached at the juncture where his neck.

“Really?” Greg grinned slyly. He didn’t know that Myc was ticklish. Greg quickly retuned his mouth to the man’s neck.

“Gregory! Gregory, I swear…” Myc tried to pull away. His argument was lost in a fit of laughter. He pushed at Greg, a halfhearted attempt to get the other man to stop.

“GREG!” Myc laughed. Greg didn’t think he would ever hear anything better in his life. He pulled from the other man, laughing. He pulled Myc after him. They came to a settle with Myc’s head on Greg’s shoulder, they bodies pressed together.

“That was mean.” Myc said once he was comfortable.

“That was adorable.” Greg kissed the top of his head. He tightened his arms around the man, keeping him close.

“Why did you have to wake me?” Myc snuggled his face into Greg’s skin.

“It’s six o’clock.”

“No?!” Myc looked up at him confused. He looked like he was going to say more when Greg’s stomach grumbled again. “Very well, what would you like for dinner?”

“I don’t know. What would you like?”

“I am not hungry.”

Greg frowned. He was sure that Myc hadn’t eaten since he went to work, at least twelve hours before. He highly doubted that Myc had eaten before he came to his office. Greg hated that Mycroft was so self-conscious about his appearance. The man was skin and bones as it was. If he lost any more weight Greg would lose him to a strong gust of wind. He tipped the man’s chin, to look at him. Myc hesitated before meeting his eye,

“You can’t lie to me I’m a detective. Now, tell me what you want to eat.” Greg ordered lightly.

“Mr. Chens?” Myc finally offered. Greg smiled. He kissed the man slow and passionately.

“That sounds perfect.” Myc smiled before pushing him away, moving to the nightstand to grab his phone. He passed it to Greg, allowing the man to order for them. He returned his head to Greg’s chest, shifting until he was comfortable. Above him, Greg chuckled as he placed their order. He ran his free hand though the gingers hair, lulling Myc back to sleep.

“We got a twenty minute wait.” Greg stretched to put the phone on the nightstand.

“You can’t let me go back to sleep.” Myc murmured sleepily.

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“’Cause I won’t sleep tonight.”

“Oh… I’m sure I can think of a few ways to wear you out." Greg smirks allowing the words to sink in for a moment before flipping Myc onto his back. Greg looked over him in a predator like manner. Beneath him, Myc only smiled back, allowing himself to be the pray.

Greg whistled and smiled as he entered The Yard the next day. Dinner had been good the night before. He had Mycroft all stretched out and ready when the delivery man. Reluctantly, he left the man while he went to pay. Only to come to find Myc three fingers deep in himself. Dinner was forgotten until they both had cum.

They ate while watching some documentary about something. Greg couldn't remember because after eating, Myc sucked him back to full hardness and rode him. Greg was wondered if Myc had a bruise on his chest from where he had bitten him when he came. Greg smirked thinking about it.

It took them both some time to recover after that. They weren't young men, after all. So in the meantime they explored each other’s bodies. They spent severe minutes tasting each other’s tongue.

They finally fell asleep with Myc atop him. Greg's softening cock still trying to stay barrier inside his lover. He made sure to kiss the half sleep man atop him, and confess his love once more. In return he got a sleepy 'iloveyou' and arms holding him tighter.

This morning they had both groaned awake as Myc alarm went off. It was early and Greg didn't want to leave the comfort of the bed. But they both had lives, responsibilities, and a reality that they had both forgotten. They showered quickly, exchanging blowjobs and sloppy kisses.

Myc dressed in one of him nice suits, while Greg changed into a set of Pajamas. When the car pulled up, they looked like total opposites. But they drove to Greg's and he changed quickly.

When he got back into the car, he liked the way Myc smiled at him. It was soft, loving almost. Greg took the other man's hand, neither of them saying anything as they drove to Scotland Yard. When the car pulled to the curb, Greg hesitated.

He cupped Myc's face, kissing the man soft and slow. He hoped that all the love he had for the man showed through in that moment. He pulled from the man resting their forehead together.

There was a ping in his heart that told him this what a fluke. That Myc wouldn't call him. That this had been a onetime thing. He would go back to being alone. He savored the feeling of the man before, knowing that he could wake up from his day dream and he would be back in his office.

Myc must have felt his insecurity because he leaned forward, initiating the kiss. It held just as much love and devotions as his. They both hesitated, neither wanting to leave the comfort of the others arms.

"I will see you tonight." Myc finally pulled away. It was said as a statement, not in form of a question. Greg smiled.

"I love you." He snuck in one last quick kiss before exiting the town car.

Now he sat at his desk, reality setting back in. There was still a serial killer out there. A killer with no pattern, killing people with no connections. The smile was quickly gone from Greg's face. Reality was so much crueler then his day dream of a night with the man he loved.


	5. Chapter 5

“Where have you been?!” Donavon burst into Greg’s office. Greg jumped, distracted by the thought of the previous night. 

“Out. Why?” 

“I’ve been trying to call you all night.” 

“I left my mobile in my jacket,” he pulled it from his packet, only to find that there were thirty missed calls. “What did you need to tell me so desperately that you called me thirty time?” 

“Well I talked with Sherlock, and he found the connection between all the victims.” 

“AND! What is it?” 

“You.” 

“Me? I’m the connection? But I never met any of them.” 

“You hadn’t met any of them yet.” 

“What?” Greg was beyond confused. 

“Sherlock, he broke into your calendar, showed me your appointments. The day after each one of them was killed, you were supposed to have a meeting with them.” Donavan held up a picture of the first victim. 

“Victim one was coming in to talk about her neighbor, who she expected of laundering money. Victim two was coming in to talk about her abusive husband. Victim three was convinced her tenants were making meth in her house. The fourth victim had a meeting to discuss a vehicle accident, the one last week where that little boy died. Those meetings with you are the only links we can find.” 

“By why are they being targeted? Why would I be the reason, I’m no one.” 

“Close detective. But you are surprisingly more useful then you think,” Sherlock pushed his way into the room. “Although, I do not see it, you are rather important to the process of… whatever it is you do here. Finding ways to eliminate you, would put a damper on the Yards ability to solve crime.” 

“Yes, thank you Sherlock. But tell me why he would be targeting random strangers that have no connection to me?” 

“Maybe that was before they knew that there were… other area that would affect you more.” 

“Other areas?” Greg was confused. 

“Other area… That you care about… Weak spots.” Dawning hit Greg like a punch in the gut. 

“Myc.” Greg bolted from his office, Donavan and Sherlock on his heels. He paid them little attention. He grabbed for his phone, dialing Myc’s number. There was no answer.

“Sherlock, where does he work?” Greg go into the driver seat of the car, Sherlock in the passenger and Donavon in the back. 

“You’re shagging him, yet you don’t know what he does for a living?” Donavon asked. 

“I’m not shagging him, I love him. But I don’t know where he's working today. Sherlock, tell me. Now!” Greg ordered as they bolted from the Yard. Greg had the sirens blaring and his phone to his ear. Myc still wasn’t answering his call. 

“He is office is on Maddox and Turnhill.” Sherlock spat out quickly. He grabbed the door handle as they drifted around a corner. Greg redialed the phone once more, but again got no answer. 

The drive should have taken them twenty minutes, in only took them ten. Greg pulled the car to a screeching halt at the gates of the large building. The guards looked at him confused. 

“Detective Inspector Lestrade. I need to know the location of Mycroft Holmes, now!” Greg order, his phone still at his ear. 

“Mr. Holmes is in a meeting right now.” One of the guards clarified, looking at Greg confused. 

“Oh…” Greg felt stupid. Myc was in a meeting, that’s why he hadn’t answered the phone. He would probably be furious with Greg when he discovered all the missed calls. Greg had overreacted, and Myc would accuse him of being ‘clingy’. One stupid act would make him loose the man once more. 

“If my brother is in a meeting, why is his car gone?” Sherlock asked. His attention was on the security Tv in the guard station. Everyone followed his gaze. Sure enough, the parking space labels ‘M. Holmes’ was vacant. 

“Maybe his driver needed to run some errands?” One of the guards offered. But he himself didn’t seem to buy that lie. 

“What’s that?” Donavan asked, motioning to the car beside the vacant spot. It look a moment for Greg to notice the discoloration below the car parked beside Myc’s empty space. 

“It looks like the car is just leaking.” 

“Not just car, the boot.” Sherlock clarified. A cold hand gripped Greg’s heart. 

“Let us in, now!” Greg ordered and the fence opened. Greg was quickly in the driver sat, stating off before Donavan or Sherlock had their doors closed. He sped to the parking space, the brakes screeching as he stopped. 

There was no mistaking the liquid dripping from the boot of the car as blood. His heart stopped and his blood ran cold. There was someone in the trunk. Sherlock approached, a look in his eyes that Greg almost mistaked for fear. The guards approached, having ran after them, only to freeze at the sight of the blood. 

“Get it open.” Greg ordered. 

He tried to keep his voice from shaking. He didn’t know what he would do it Myc was in the trunk. Vicious would have succeeded in his quest to break him, simple because loosing Myc would do just that. One of the guards used a bar and the boot popped open. Greg held his breath. 

The brunette in the car was one Greg had seen many times, but never met. He always stayed on the other side of the car’s the barricade. But Myc has said he was a good driver. Contracted never to speak about what he saw or where they went. More than once he had fetched them late night dinners, and been waiting outside the Yard to take him to Myc. Greg felt sad looking at his dead body. 

“What were you saying about is his driver needed to ‘run some errands’?” Sherlock looked at the guards confused. The guards set into action, making phone calls into the building. 

Greg stood staring at the dead body, a bullet though his temple. All the things that could be happening to Myc running through his mind. Myc would be hurt. Myc would be dead, shot that same way. The more he thought about it, the more he promised himself that he would do anything to find his love.


	6. Chapter 6

The guards’ quickly discover that Mycroft hadn't even make it into the office. Sherlock scolded them, but like normal his big words went over the men’s heads and they did understand. Greg ignored him, choosing instead to focus on the security video.

Greg watched Myc's car pull into it's space and the ginger exit the car. Greg tried not to be terrified, thinking it could be the last time he say the other man. He watched the figure move from the shadows. Greg was sure that he could see the sparks from the taser, as it was jabbed into Mycroft's neck. Greg flinched in sympathy as Myc crashed hard to the ground. As the driver came around the car, Greg watched the barrel of the gun flash and the driver fall.

As Greg watched the man drag Myc’s limp body into the car, all Greg could feel was anger. Myc was his and there was no one that should be touching him. Greg wanted to jump through the window and kill the attacker.

"How the hell did no one see this?" He asked angrily after watching the assailant pop open the boot of the car beside Myc's and haul the drive inside.

"There was an alarm on the third flood, all guards were called to assist."

"What was the alarm about?"

"It was a false alarm... Glitch in the system." Greg said nothing. Glaring at the guards' instead. None of them would meet his eye, choosing instead to look sheepish at the ground. Frustrated, Greg pushed his way out of the security office.

The fear that gripped his heart made it hard to breath. Everyone that had interacted with Vicious ended up dead, and it was all Greg’s fault. Mycroft had only been attacked because of his association with the D.I. If Greg had just let him go, Myc would be safe. If he had just forgotten about Myc, kept their relation casual, Myc wouldn't have been targeted. But now Greg going to lose him.

"Thinking that way will not help him." Sherlock said cold and neutral like normal.

"What the hell would you know?" Greg wouldn't stop the anger in his voice.

"I know that you love him... And that he loves you. A blind man could see that you to... Belong. It’s not your fault.”

“Shut up, Sherlock.” Greg bit back.

“Without me you won’t find him and my brother surely will die…”

Greg couldn’t help himself. His arm was moving before he could stop it. His hand connected with Sherlock’s face. Sherlock recoiled, looked less then shocked. He brushed the blood from his lip without a second thought. Greg, on the other hand, was appalled at his own actions. But his actions were less of a shock then the tears running down his face.

“Sherlock, I’m…”

“Feel better?”

“…Yes.”

“Good. Now, let us focus.” Greg bushed the tears away and allowed Sherlock to lead him back their car.

 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

Back at the Yard everyone was busy at work. All other cases were placed on hold. Donavan had called, ordered people this way, and that. No one questioned her, seeing that it was the detective inspector’s boyfriend on the line.

Under other circumstances Greg would have been upset that she was openly telling everyone about his sexuality. It was something that he himself hadn’t come to terms with. He didn’t think of himself as gay. He wasn’t attracted to other men. It was just Mycroft. He was attracted to Mycroft. But at the moment, he didn’t care what other people thought about him. He just wanted to find the ginger.

“No CCTV hit on his car.” The officer approached the table with caution. She jumped when Greg throw down the file he was reading. He and Donavan were reviewing the other Vicious cases, in hope of finding something that they might have missed.

“This is London, the home of fucking surveillance camera. How do we not know where the car is?!” In a fit of rage Greg flung the files off the table, sending them flying to the ground. The officer jumped and Donavan glared at him. He took several deep breaths, hoping to calm himself.

“Was that completely necessary?” Sherlock asked as he entered the room. He had gone off, in hopes of using his own resources to get information. Normally Greg would be upset with him just badging in, but at the moment he didn’t care.

“What did you find out?”

“I was vexed that we couldn’t kind him via the CCTVs. But that also raised the question that will find my brother.”

“What?” Greg asked confused.

“You were right. London is the home to the most surveillance camera. So, how could Mycroft’s car not be seen by any of them?”

“That is the question I was just asking?!” Greg grew more frustrated. He didn’t understand why the Holmes boys always had to talk in riddles. He wanted an answer, not a puzzle.

“They had to know where the camera are.” Donavan spat out quickly the look on her face was one of realization. Greg looked at her confused. “Every time we find a car, there are no cameras' around, and we have no record of where the cars have been, seeing that the CCTVs couldn’t find them.” Donavon spoke from the piles of paperwork that was on the ground. She was looking for something.

“Every victim has been found in an alley way that was a blind spot.” Sherlock cut in. Donovan, having found her pictures, laid them out before Greg. They were all pictures of the alleyway, were there were no camera. “How would someone know where the blind spots were?”

“They work for the CCTV Company!” Greg said in a realization. There was no other way that anyone would know how to get from one place to another without getting seen, unless they were the ones behind the monitors. “Get me a list of all the employees at the CCTV Company. Now!”

Everyone in the room jumped into action. Greg studied the photos. Maybe, just maybe, he would get to his love in time. He allowed a little spark to rise inside him. He was getting close.

The employee list didn’t take long to get. Sherlock looked over his shoulder as he read through the list. But none of the names looked familiar. Greg didn’t know any of them.

“Only two employees were off on the days of the murders'.” Donavan handed Greg a folder with two profiles. He opened them, only to look blankly at the photo staring back at him. They still didn’t look familiar.

“Either of them have a file?”

“No. Both clean.”

“Alright. See if you can ping their cellphones.” Greg hoped. Mycroft needed to hold on, just for a while longer. There was a heavy silence as the man at the computer typed. They had tried to ping Myc’s phone earlier, but got no results. Now they waited.

“Alright first one is up.” The man said and they all looked to the red dot on the map. The dot was in a residential area. Greg’s hopes fell. “Second one is coming up now.” A blue dot appeared. It was in an alley way, just off downtown.

“We got him. Send me the coordinates. I want all units there now!” Greg was already running from the Yard, Sherlock and Donavan at his heels.

Greg flew through the streets, an army of flashing lights behind him. Several cars followed him, along with an ambulance. But his thought were on one thing. The life he wanted with the man he loved.

They were going to move in together. Greg was going to propose. They would have a nice, simple wedding. John would stand beside him, and Sherlock could stand beside Myc. They would kiss and they would be together, forever. He was never letting the man out of his sights again. But, those were all thoughts of a life that couldn’t happen, not if Mycroft was dead.

Greg pressed down on the gas pedal.

 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

The car pulled to a screeching halt outside the alleyway. Greg was out of his seat almost before the car was stopped. In the middle of the way was Myc’s black town car. Greg could make out no movement from within. His hand went to his gun. He began his slow approach. Donavan and the others following behind him.

There was no doubt in Greg’s mind that the person inside knew that they were there. One of the cop cars pulled into the other end of the alleyway, preventing the car from going anywhere. Vicious was trapped. Greg caught first sight of Myc in the side mirror. He looked bruised and blood. His head hung, his eyes were closed. His body was limp. He looked dead. Greg wanted to run to him, but he could tell there was someone in the passenger seat.

The next moments happened very quickly for Greg, followed by very slowly.

In a quick shuffle, there was a commotion in the car. Greg watched Mycroft disappear from the mirror. Then there was a gunshot. Greg’s heart stopped. The echo reverberated off the walls of the alley and time seemed to stand still. No one seemed to breath, and no one spoke.The world turned to slow motion. Donavon and other officers pushed past him, surrounding the car. But Greg couldn’t move. His was frozen in that second of lose. His universe crashed in around him. The officers shouted between themselves, but Greg heard none of it. His love was gone. His everything was gone.

But reality snapped back in as he watched two officers pull the blood covered ginger from the cars. The lanky man stood for a moment, unable to stay standing on his wobbly legs. It took Greg a moment to realize what was happening.  It wasn’t until blue eyes lock onto his love that he truly realized Myc was alive . He ran to the man, pulling him into his arms.

“Jesus, Myc, I thought I’d lost you.” Greg cried, tears of joy and relief filling his eye. Myc said nothing, holding him loosely. Unable to support himself, Myc leaned into him. Greg lowered them to the ground, pulling Myc into his lap.

“I love you so much.” He repeated over and over as he rocked the man back and forth. Myc still said nothing. But his ragged breath assured Greg that the other man was alive. In the back of his mind Greg knew he should be helping to man into an ambulance, but he didn’t want to let the man go.

When a figure appeared, looming over them, Greg’s hand automatically when to the gun he had replaced in its holder. But when he looked up, it was Sherlock. For a split second Greg saw the look of fear on his face. It was gone the moment he saw Myc’s chest move. Donavan, also close by, let out a visible sigh of relief. She called for coroners to deal with the dead body in the car.

But Greg didn’t care about any of that. Myc was back in his arms, where he belonged. He was battered and bruised. But safe. No matter what happened after that, Greg was never letting him go again.

When the EMS arrived, Greg lifted him onto the stretcher. He held Myc’s hand as he was examined and all the way to the hospital. Myc had said very few words, his eyes never leaving Greg’s when he did. Greg kissed his battered knuckles, and stroked the curls from his swollen eyes.

 

<><><><><><><><><><><>

 

“Please, do it for me?” Greg pleaded as Myc protested about being kept in the hospital for a twenty-four hour observation. Myc hesitated before putting on the paper gown. The physician examined him. Greg moved from holding one hand, to the other. He didn’t want to be in the doctor’s way, but he wasn’t going to let Myc go for anything. Myc didn’t seem to mind, he body relaxing when Greg’s hand was in his. Myc had several broke ribs, a damaged orbital socket, a strained wrist and knee, several cuts and a lot of bruising. But there was no internal bleeding, and nothing that he could recover from. Myc was stitched up, his hand held tightly to Greg’s the whole time.

When the officer came to take his statement, Mycroft relived the whole scenario. After waking up from being tased, Mycroft found himself tied to a chair in an unknown location. The man, Peter Hundersun, began beating him, spending the whole time explaining how it was Mycroft’s fault that Greg didn’t love Peter. Come to find out that Peter, who had met Greg at an officer’s convention, had been at the club the night Myc approached Greg with their casual relationship offer. Greg had gone home with Myc, instead of Peter. Then, when Peter had set up a meeting with Greg to discuss all the CCTV blind spots, the D.I. g had passed the meeting off to another officer. That was the last straw for Peter. If he couldn’t even get a meeting with Greg, then no one would.

After Donavan walked in on the snogging session the previous day, word got around the D.I. had a gay lover. Peter had been furious. He followed them from Scotland Yard and began plotting on how to get read of Mycroft. In Peter;s mind, Greg belonged to him. If he couldn’t have Greg, no one could.

After the beating, Peter drove a half conscious Myc to the alleyway and waited. Not only did he want to take Greg’s love away. He wanted Greg to watch his lover be killed. Peter know he could be caught, but Greg would be alone and he felt it an equal trade. So they waited. Mycroft, exhausted and dazed from being tased, could do little to fight. But when he say Greg approach the car, he knew he had to do something or he was going to die. So he did. He wrestled with Peter. There was a struggle and the gun went off. Peter was dead, and Greg didn’t feel sad about it.

Greg held extra tightly to Myc’s hand as he described the last hours. But Myc seemed unfazed as he described what Peter had done and the reasons why. The officer took notes and left. As soon as the door was closed, Myc burst into teach. Greg held him the best he could, allowing Myc to cry on his shoulder. He reassured the man by stroking his hair, and expressing his love. Quickly, love turn into apologies. Before long Greg was crying also, begging for Myc to forgive him.

They kissed away each other’s tears. Greg promising the ginger that he never let anything happen to him again and Myc promising that he would never leave the other man. They both fell asleep in the hospital bed, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Safe.


End file.
